“You’re right. I promise.”
Maggie handed Laura a tissue. “Now wipe your tears and don’t give it any more thought.”
“Thank you, you’re a brick.” Laura wiped her tears before the mirror, then concentrated on fixing her make up. I’m not meeting Charles with smudges in my eyes!
Maggie helped her and watched her transform within minutes into the strong woman she knew her best friend was.
Maggie gave a little cheer. “Come on, Prince Charming’s waiting!”
Laura smiled. There was no trace of her pain left; at least not on her face.
Maggie squeezed her arm and smiled with approval, then left the room with her, encouraging her to have a wonderful time. Of course, she would have preferred for Laura to be with Christian, happy as before, but now it seemed to her that it had ended for good. What else was she going to do now but urge her friend to reciprocate to the advances of such a promising suitor?
***
When Laura exited the Pavilion, perfectly groomed and stunning in her new gown, she found Charles waiting outside. Dressed in a dinner jacket, white waistcoat and pointed polished shoes, he looked perfect, and she couldn’t deny it. She curled her arm around his, and they walked along the deck together. James and the Rolls were waiting at the roadside to whisk them in all luxury to the classiest eatery in town.
Laura seemed star-struck during their short walk to the car. The two of them were a dashing couple, and she knew it. A perfect gentleman was walking with her on his arm, among all people. It sounded crazy even in her head. As they chatted happily on their way out of the Pier, it crossed her mind that in only a year and a bit, she had managed the seemingly impossible: from the girl who used to watch the stylish crowd from behind the counter at the café, she had become a rightful member of this very crowd; now a promising performer on her way to London. She was walking on the Pier with none other than the son of an Earl, dressed in a fancy gown, one of many that she now owned. She wished Christian could see her with Charles and, unbeknownst to her, her wish came true.
Hidden by the crowd, Christian, already semi-drunk with bubbly Sarah holding on to him, saw Laura and Charles getting in his car, and it hurt him like a blade cutting his insides. Yet, he didn’t show it and never spoke a word. Instead, as if in a daze, he scowled for a few moments vaguely into the distance, then grabbed the girl by the chin and kissed her passionately on the lips.
Every time he had kissed Sarah in the last two days, and ever since he’d heard from Paul through Meg that Laura was going out with Charles after all, he’d been desperately wishing to forget all about her. He willed time to pass; hoping that the sweetness of another woman’s lips would soon make it all feel like Laura had never existed. He knew he had started to drink too much but, for now, he didn’t care. It numbed the pain, and what he had just seen meant he was now desperate for more.
He gave a low, throaty laugh and slurred something unfathomable in the young girl’s ear. Stumbling together, they headed for the pub, the nearest one they could find.
***
Notre Dame was all Laura had expected and more. It was a visual feast of Persian rugs, fine crystal, polished silverware, velvet seats, and marble-topped tables. There were fresh flowers everywhere, their aroma merging with the salty breeze that entered through the open windows. Magnificent chandeliers lit up the room splendidly. Every single detail did its magic to make up the perfect dining place in Laura’s eyes.
Charles helped her to her seat and then sat across from her. To her, he was growing steadily into the perfect vision of elegance that soon set her will ironclad about her intentions. It wasn’t that she had started to see him romantically—not in the least—but by now, she liked him a lot and had grown quite willing to be friends with him. If this were to make Christian aware she had finer choices ahead of her than what he had found in Sarah, even better.
Dinner was exquisite. Vichyssoise soup, then mussels in a creamy Normandy sauce, followed by coq au vin with mushrooms. They enjoyed fine wine with their food and then had champagne with their dessert: a strawberry-topped mille-feuille of unimaginable freshness and texture.
Charles was keen to answer all her questions, and she was thrilled to hear all about him and his life. He was twenty-five. He had received a college education in Business, yet somehow, had opted not to pursue some sort of career as yet. He claimed life was too much fun; that it would be a pity not to enjoy it fully while still young. He also commented that in his family, fun was to be had practically every day.
Many of his favourite pastimes seemed to revolve around the family estate and the house itself—Lakeview Castle—on the outskirts of town. The vast expanse of land that made up the estate had been passed on to the Fenshaws from generation to generation for centuries.
Lakeview had twenty-three rooms. There were various amenities in the grounds for the pleasure of its inhabitants and guests. Horseback riding, hunting, archery, croquet, and even boating often became fun activities for all, during the parties and picnics that the family organised, given half the chance.
Charles promised Laura to show her around Lakeview as soon as she returned from London. She was scheduled to go the following week, and he surprised her when he said he would meet her there, as he had some errands to run in the city for his father.
She was pleased of course. Other than Mr Mills and her acting partner Ian, she expected she wouldn’t really have anyone else to talk to when not at work. Somehow, she hadn’t really made friends with anyone else in the company. Also, she wasn’t in the least interested to go to her old neighbourhood and meet anyone from that part of her life. Instead, she liked to think of her visit to London as her first ever. Judging from the different experience she anticipated this time round, it might as well be.
She was frugal with information about herself, and Charles was tactful enough not to ask her too many questions. Although it was evident to him she came from a poor family, he didn’t seem to mind at all.
***
“Thank you for a wonderful evening,” said Laura, offering her hand to Charles.
James had just driven them to her house, and he sat at the wheel while they lingered outside her gate. Tactful as always, the chauffeur glued his eyes absentmindedly to the distant traffic, giving privacy to his boss and his lovely date.
“It was a great pleasure. Thank you so much for accompanying me, Laura,” replied Charles. Instead of simply shaking her hand, he bent down and kissed it in the most graceful manner.
Laura thought this was something she would have to get used to. Completely dazzled as she was by then, she never stopped him when he approached and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was a mere peck. Their lips barely touched for a second, but for some reason she felt electrified. Perhaps it was the wine, the champagne, or even his flawless manner. Or maybe it was because of Sarah. Stupid, little Sarah that she couldn’t get out of her head. The world had started to spin a little.
Laura chuckled and placed a hand on her forehead. This is awkward. What am I doing? “I’d better go. My mother will probably be up still, waiting for me.”
“Really? But it is quite late.” He checked on his watch. It was almost midnight.
Laura gave a half smile. “You don’t know my mother.” She made to go but Charles caught her arm. It was a tender gesture, but it made her turn around startled, all the same.
“Would I be terribly bold if I were to kiss you again?”
“I think maybe you shouldn’t,” she said, twisting her lips and glancing at him cautiously. “I don’t wish to give you the wrong impression, Charles.”
“I thought you liked me, Laura…” He removed his hand from her arm, his voice heavy with dismay.
“Indeed, I do, but—”
“But?” He cocked an eye at her.
“But… Well, I’m afraid it’s complicated.” She heaved a sigh.
“There’s someone else?”
“I’m not sure. As I said, it’s complicated.”
“Well, I am willing to wait if it’s time that you need. I really like you, Laura…” He moved to touch her again, unable to resist her standing so close to him.
“I like you too, Charles,” she replied, not even sure if it was sincerity or sympathy that had made her say it. Biting her lip, she took two steps back to move away, before he could touch her again. She felt dizzy and brought a hand to her head. Why did I have to drink so much? She ventured another glance at Charles. He looked disheartened now, but there was nothing she could do about that. “Well, thank you again. Good night now…”
“Good night, Laura.” Charles watched her go, a dignified smile plastered on his face. He stood there till she entered the house.
Once inside, Laura leaned against the closed front door. She listened to the engine start and then to its sound slowly dying away. In the silence that ensued, never moving an inch from her spot, she raised a hand to her face, covering her mouth. Did I just kiss someone else? Is it over with Christian? Could I really move on and never look back?
She made herself a cup of tea and went to the back of the house to sit by the living room window. Its daytime generous views of the park and the forest were all veiled by a misty darkness at the time. However, high above on a starry sky, she could see silver clouds surrounding the moon that shone with a strong, eerie light. It was such a beautiful and serene sight that she felt reluctant to go to bed just yet. She was also relieved her mother hadn’t waited up for her after all.
With her steaming cup in hand, she took a seat in the armchair by the window and gazed at the sky for a while, lost in her thoughts. Then, she put the cup down on the saucer and fetched a notepad and a pencil from the desk. She didn’t often feel inspired to write poems these days, but the beauty of the moonlight that summer night offered a rare opportunity she simply couldn’t resist.
ADVICE FROM THE MOON
Mother of tides
Your magic word the sea abides
Healer of pain
Look at my heart, the wretched, the slain.
Of gathering clouds you slide on the silk
Of worrying souls the bread and the milk
You are; as you were and always will be
I’m longing for truth, your face to see
I’m looking for answers, my dreams to come true
Will they from the clouds one day come through?
And then as She slid, majestically pale
Behind grey veils, so silky, so frail
She shone on my face and filled me with bliss
Then blew these words like a motherly kiss:
When morning should come
Then whispered The Moon
The Sun will awake and blind me too soon
He puts me to sleep with powerful rays
And blind I stumble throughout His days.
At night, I’m The Queen, The Mother, The Guide
But sometimes behind the clouds I should hide.
And if your keen eye should try to find me
Don’t blame the clouds that gather to hide me.
Hold on to your dreams and hang on still proud
I hear your pleas - you stare at the cloud.
I haven’t gone out; I’m still all around!
I hold all your dreams behind the cloud.
And as I emerge from silver grey lines
As clouds will then yield, as moonlight then shines
One day your dreams at last will be there
They’re already here my child,
As long as at clouds you solemnly stare.
Chapter 32
The premiere of the show in the West End was a huge success. Laura was now experiencing a different London to the one she used to know. This one was its facet of glamour, luxury and joie de vivre. Charles was there to applaud her, and he took her out afterwards for a celebratory private dinner for two at the Savoy.
Laura woke up in her luxurious suite at The Dorchester the next morning and couldn’t believe what her life had become, and how it had changed so suddenly. She walked up to the window and looked down at the busy Park Lane, then over to the lush view of Hyde Park. Clear skies hung over the city. The façades of London’s ancient, magnificent edifices looked refreshed, vibrant, under the tender sunlight.
Laura smiled to herself as the morning light danced in her sleepy eyes. Lazily, she put out a hand to feel the warmth on the windowpane. She didn’t have to go to the theatre until the early afternoon and was looking forward to her little shopping spree in Oxford Street after breakfast. She intended to spend a bit of money on presents for her mother, just a few things to spoil her a little.
Charles was expected to come and pick her up for lunch after finishing his father’s errands. Although she was appreciative of his time and attentions, she was unsure as to whether or not it was wise to encourage him like that. It was clear to her that Christian had made his decision to let her go. Regardless of how much this hurt, her pride would never allow her to ask him to reconsider. But even so, she didn’t want Charles to have hopes. Although he was a man of the world, wealthy and thus, her mother’s ideal candidate for marrying her daughter, Laura didn’t fancy him. She couldn’t be with someone just because he was rich. Therefore, she was trying consciously by now to keep him at arm’s length.
The previous night when he said goodbye at the hotel lobby, she had turned her face just in time for his kiss to be planted on her cheek, even though he was aiming for her lips. She hoped he had received the message loud and clear. Perhaps they could stay friends. That was all she wanted from him.
***
The evening performance was underway. At midday, Charles had taken Laura for lunch at yet another fancy restaurant of his choice. He had then accompanied her to the theatre by taxi. He wasn’t watching the performance as a spectator this time but was standing in the wings with Mr Mills. They were now admiring one of Laura’s singing solos, watching in silence, both of them looking equally enchanted.
Charles had grown besotted with her and had long decided to court her for as long as it was necessary for her to become his. He didn’t have the words ‘defeat’ or ‘rejection’ in his vocabulary. His rich and powerful ancestry and upbringing had made sure of that. Not that his father had been his best ally; but he had strong connections, and the power of his status to ensure he always got his way with people. There were no exceptions where it came to women.
Laura had seemed distant from day one, but this wasn’t something that was likely to put him off. On the contrary, it had made him even more persistent and determined to win her heart. It wasn’t just about how much he admired her voice and beauty. It was a matter of ego to him as well.
Whenever a bit of investigation was necessary, his valet Harold proved quite valuable. He was a lank man in his forties with an unmistakable air of experience about him. This was mostly owed to the time he had served in the muddy trenches of Western Europe during the Great War, under the command of Charles’s father; a colonel. Having proven daring, fearless and utterly loyal, Earl Fenshaw had taken him under his wing after the war, employing him at Lakeview. As a valet, Harold wasn’t only perfectly competent, but hugely valuable as well for personal errands where discretion was of paramount importance.
Back in Brighton, Harold had succeeded in finding out all about Laura’s personal life within only a couple of days since Charles first laid eyes on her. Feigning nonchalance, Harold had made sure to be pleasant and chatty with the cleaning ladies and the chorus girls around the Pavilion, while his employer visited Laura in her dressing room. He had chosen the youngest girls to fish for information, seeing that from experience these were the most naïve and thus less likely to suspect foul play. It had proved simply effortless to extract the information that the new lead of the show was in love with Christian, one of the stagehands. The girls had even pointed him out to Harold, as they giggled and chatted unstoppably, flattered that such a handsome and presentable employee of Earl Fenshaw and the Viscount Willard had even
bothered to address them at all.
Harold had duly informed Charles at once and was given new instructions to follow Christian around, in order to find out all about him. Once he got sighted in Sarah’s embrace, Charles had decided it was time to pursue Laura more relentlessly. Still standing in the wings, he watched as Laura carried on singing and told himself this woman with the angelic voice would soon be his.
During the break, Laura went backstage to change while Charles waited outside her door. He stood alone there, enjoying a cigar when a young maid rushed down the corridor towards him, holding a little note. She greeted Charles politely and was about to knock on the door when he stopped her by raising his hand in an authoritative manner.
“Is there anything I can do for you, miss?” came his curt question.
“I’ve got a telephone message for Miss Mayfield, sir,” she replied timidly.
“That’s all right. I’ll hand it to her, thank you.” He held out his hand, eager to intercept it, to delve into Laura’s personal affairs as best as he could, so that he could control them better.
“Right, sir,” she replied, handing him the note, albeit rather hesitantly, “but please, do ask her to hurry. I’ve told the gentleman she’s just gone to change for the second half. He’ll be calling again in five minutes or so.”
“Of course! Leave it with me, thank you,” he replied, willing his voice to stay calm while in fact he was getting agitated, having no patience for the young, working girl. He was desperate now to read the note. He gave her an encouraging little smile in order to reassure her. It was easy for him to trick her that he meant well. After all, his honourable looks in that fine suit from Savile Row made him look respectable, when in reality he was no more than a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.
As soon as the girl disappeared, he read the note quickly, hungrily, as his lips twisted with indignation.
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